


Courage

by frankenmouse



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Gen Work, Humor, One Shot, the major is scary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankenmouse/pseuds/frankenmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent B is not having a good day. </p>
<p>Rated T for the tiniest bit of cussing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courage

Despite the sudden slamming of the department door, the twenty-four men in the office didn’t twitch a muscle. This was not due to a generally positive and relaxed outlook on life, but could rather be attributed to certain rabbit-like defense mechanisms—among which was the certainty that the first man to so much as blink would become the epicenter of a class one explosion. As a result, when the door to the Major’s office finally banged shut the mass exhalation that followed raised the CO2 levels of the room to a considerable degree. Work resumed a normal, if wary, pace, no longer slowed by muscles locked in paroxysms of terror. 

Agent B eyed suspiciously quiet office fearfully and wondered if he dare knock. It was, he thought, what A would have done. Unfortunately, A was currently on leave and was doubtlessly having a wonderful time in the Schwartzwald with his wife—the bastard—leaving B in the unenviable position of most senior agent. If Z hadn’t been visiting his sister in München the portly agent would have sent him, on the grounds that the Major—for whatever reasons—seemed less inclined to point a loaded firearm at him. 

Slowly, silently, B went through the roster, praying he’d find an appropriate replacement. G would end up crying, P wouldn’t actually hear anything over the ringing in his ears, L would most likely collapse, and S’s stutter would doubtlessly increase to the point of incomprehensibility.

No. It would have to be him. Summoning what courage he had, B pushed himself from his desk, attempting to cultivate the apologetic yet competent aura that A seemed to exude so effortlessly. Unfortunately, he suspected that the best he could hope for was cowed good intent. It would have to do. 

As he passed G’s desk the agent gave him a small salute and sympathetic smile. B wished he hadn’t. It gave him the feeling that the petite agent was thanking him for his sacrifice. Which he supposed he was. It was not an encouraging thought. 

Once before the doorway that he always personally thought of as the brazen portal, B took a deep breath and planted his feet, making a valiant effort to redistribute his paunch to chest ratio. With a brief prayer to the Holy Mother for her intercession in the case of a munitions incident, he raised a fist to knock on the Major’s door.


End file.
